Orange Juice
by Darkening Sights
Summary: Kurt runs into Karofsky at the grocery store- literally. Rated T for derogatory term used.


**Yeah, I'm mean to my Kurty boy. But, how could I not be? I love Karofsky! *Gasp!* yeah, I'm psycho. I love Karofsky. I said it, and it's never gettin' taken back!

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Kurt did not trust Burt to shop on his own, especially not after that little fiasco of his father bringing home _frozen pizza. _That stuff is worse for you than the ordered kind! Well, in Kurt's view it was. Anything manufactured like that just simply could not be good for you. So, from then on he accompanied his father to the grocery store, picking out healthy choices for the Hudmel (What, the name was cute!) family. On any other day Carole would have gone, but today she had an obligation at work and the family was running significantly low on food. Not their fault for having a vacuum cleaner known as Finn around the house.

"No, dad, we don't want pre-shredded cheese! Do the extra work and buy a block!" Kurt scolded, glaring half-heartedly at his father, who sighed in response and set the package back in its place, reaching for the block instead. Kurt smiled triumphantly and nodded, motioning to the other dairy products, "Now, you choose what kinds of yogurt you want, only this brand!" Kurt held up a small tub of yogurt before dropping it into the cart. "I'm going to go find some orange juice." The Warbler turned on his heel, and nearly strutted down the aisle, turning to the next and leaving Burt wondering who exactly the parent in this situation was.

While humming the newest addition to the Warblers' repertoire, Kurt picked a carton of juice off of the rack, reading it and comparing it to the carton he had in his other hand, both pulp-free of course. With a nod he made his decision, and placed the rejected carton back in its place, spinning around and still looking at the carton as he began to walk, wondering if his father was done choo-

"**Oof!" **_**Thump**_**!**

"Ouch…" Kurt murmured from his place on the floor, leaning to the side to grab the surprisingly unbroken carton, "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention," he said to whomever he had run in to without looking up at him/her.

"Wow, this really seems familiar," the sneer sent shivers down Kurt's spine and his eyes widened, his head turning in a manner that was surprising he didn't give himself whip-lash to stare up at the large boy who was smirking down at him with arms crossed. It was the first time Kurt had seen his tormenter since he left McKinley.

The countertenor stood without another word, gathering up the 'courage' that he had used before, trying to forget what had happened last time he did, "Hello, David," he said curtly.

Karofsky snorted in irritation, glaring at the boy who now stood before him, brushing off his no-doubt label clothing. "Thought you could run, huh, faggot?" he growled, stepping closer to Kurt, who shrunk away naturally and looked down the aisle in search for some help. No one was around. "I'll always be there, watching…" the simple words rolled off Karofsky's tongue so naturally, so threateningly that Kurt couldn't help but flinch. Karofsky noticed, the smirk that was still on his face growing into a smile- and then just a contortion of teeth.

"I'm-" Kurt took a deep breath, "I'm not afraid of you, Karofsky," he spat, trying to stand as tall as possible.

"Is that right?" The words were achingly familiar as Karofsky advanced, and Kurt shuffled back until he could feel the back of his knees pressed up again the cool bottom of the freezer rack.

"Y-Yes! This is a _public _place!" Kurt managed to keep the tremors out of his voice, gaining some of that confidence and wit he was so well known for as he began to rationally accept the situation, "Even someone as dense-skulled as you wouldn't try anything where anyone can see!" he spat, now glaring up at the taller teen.

Karofsky felt that anger build up in him again, that same feeling that was with him in the locker room. His face went from an expression of triumph to one of confused irritation, the snarl on his face growing along with almost a feral sound from his throat. And through that- hormones rocked his mind as he could feel Kurt's hastened breath brushing across his cheeks and neck, and suddenly the shivers that were racking his body weren't ones of anger. The football player backed off much quicker than he had originally intended, not allowing that impulse to… kiss (he was still denying that it was anything more than just the want to shut the other up) Kurt to take over again.

Kurt's brow furrowed in confusion at Karofsky's sudden retreat, and although his guard was still up he took a tentative step forward, opening his mouth to say something before Karofsky held up a hand and shook his head, "No, no! You stay away from me!" he snapped. "Don't tell anybody you saw me!" he threatened weakly, moving slowly toward the exit of the aisle, "You hear me?" he growled, and Kurt just nodded dumbly in response, for once at a loss for words. Karofsky nodded hesitantly and then turned quickly, dashing out of sight at a gallop-jog pace.

What was left on Kurt's face was quite indescribable. He wasn't sure whether to feel triumphant for going through an encounter with Karofsky mainly unharmed (his butt hit the ground pretty hard on that initial fall), or whether he should be worried about the football player. Obviously his… mental state wasn't getting any better since Kurt left, still denying who he was and still using violence as an excuse for everything and anything. So, he just looked… dumb, confused as he stared at the spot where Karofsky had once been. For a moment he felt the urge to chase after him, to catch him and tell him everything would be alright and nothing bad was going to happen.

But, then Kurt remembered what Karofsky had done to him, how Karofsky had left him broken on the floor, shoulder banged up from a locker, head swimming from pain. And he turned to head back to the dairy aisle with a feeling of sick justice swirling in his gut, carrying the near-forgotten carton of orange juice in white knuckles.

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**AN: Just a little ficlet. Fun, right? I have no idea why this came about or how, but it just did and now you're reading it and I'm not sure why. Anyway! Now that I've got my Glee-spasm out… well, I donno. Maybe I'll write another chapter to my YJ story. Maybe not. Who knows~. R&R LOVES!**


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